


Warmth

by bgmblues



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arranged Marriage, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, POV Second Person, Princes & Princesses, Sharing a Bed, boyfriend jacket but not a jacket, but also theyre engaged so does it count???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 03:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgmblues/pseuds/bgmblues
Summary: Reiner has a cold from the rain but Bertolt makes him feel warm.





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> this au came from a dream i had

Bertolt looked exhausted. 

You probably did too, but at least you had the cloak and weren't walking in the cold rain with just your regular clothes. Technically speaking, this was his cloak, passed off to you as you were coming down with a cold. Just the thought made you feel a little warmer.

He holds the door to the inn open for you and follows you in, clearly relieved to get out of the rain and into a dry building. It's fairly busy, actually, but that makes sense given this was one of the towns closest to the border with the next nation over. You see the variety of horned Therens and winged Harpuiai and rather bland looking humans in comparison around, some in front of the fire and some in the dining hall.

“One room,” Bertolt tells the innkeeper. You dig out the money and slide it across the counter, getting a rusted key in return. Bertolt is the one who takes it, clearly trying to seem friendly and offering a small smile. You lean on him as he leads you down the hall to your room. The door unlocks easily and with a small kick, you're inside and falling onto the bed.

“Take off those clothes first,” Bertolt chides. You manage a chuckle and work on kicking off your boots first.

“That's quite the abrupt way to get me in bed,” you joke. One boot thuds against the bedside drawer, and then the other. You waste no time in shucking the cloak and then shirt to the floor.

Bertolt sits beside you as you fall back down onto the bed, setting his pack on the floor. His brows are knit together, but there's a soft look on his face. You smile wearily up at him. His hand find yours and you sit like that in the mostly dark room for a few minutes. Finally, Bertolt pushes himself up to change out of his own wet clothes. He bends down to pick up yours as well, laying them over a chair to dry.

“I don't think we'll have any warm clothes to change into,” Bertolt murmurs. He stands over you and undoes you belt and pants. Normally you'd pull him down and kiss him, or crack a sexual joke, but you're just too worn out to do anything but lift up your hips for Bertolt to pull the clothes down and then crawl into the bed.

“I can see if there's any soup or tea,” he tells you as you pull the covers up to to your neck. You should probably try and down something, but you're having a hard time focusing on anything other than keeping your eyes open and paying attention to Bertolt.

“Too tired,” you mumble, “It's past my bedtime.” Bertolt huffs a laugh and nods a little, undoing his own pants and laying them over the chair. He pads over to the other side of the bed and quickly joins you under the covers, arm wrapping around your waist and tail resting against your thigh. Despite the cold rain outside, his body is still warm and you lean back into him as much as you can.

“Do you have any siblings I should expect when we get back?” You ask tiredly, idly talking as you fell asleep. You were way past that stage, but you were finally so, so close to Bertolt’s home kingdom again.

Bertolt hums into your neck. “Didn’t you look at the files your parents gave you when we were engaged?” He asks. You hadn’t at the time, too upset with your father for having arranged a marriage behind your back. Sheepishly, you shrug. You get a breathy and tired laugh that tickles your neck in response.

“Alright,” he says, “I have two half-brothers named Marcel and Porco. Marcel’s next in line, actually.” He pauses, “And my cousin Pieck. She’s the oldest out of all of us.”

“You have a big family.”

He snickers. “I guess you could say that. It’s always been the four of us, though Porco kinda sucks. I don’t think he counts.” You can’t help but laugh at that. “You probably won’t like him either. The best advice I can give is to just smile and nod at everything he says.”

Maybe you should’ve read all the information you’d been given on Bertolt and his family. It seemed fairly hectic and like a lot happened. 

Bertolt buries his head into your neck and presses a kiss to your nape. His tail taps against your thigh more; it’s a little ticklish, really, so you move one hand down to fiddle with the tuft of fur at the end. Bertolt huffs behind you but doesn't say much more, exhaustion finally catching up with him.

Slowly the tail twitching comes to a stop and Bertolt snores a little against you. You close your eyes and slide your hand back up and over the arm around your waist.

Bertolt really did make you feel loved. You hope it came across that you returned the feeling. In the fairly short time you'd known Bertolt--only a few months, you think--you'd absolutely fallen deeply for him.

Ymir would probably rub it in your face if she saw you now.


End file.
